Jalapeno Hands
by LibertyBelleAnne
Summary: Jack runs into some trouble in the kitchen. Good thing Mac is there to help. For Whumptober 2019 #25 Humiliation.


**Disclaimer: I don't own any think tank consultants that are really spies.**

**A/N: For Whumptober 2019 #25**** Humiliation. This has happened to me before with anaheim peppers. Always wear gloves when dealing with peppers. This has been a public service announcement. On to the story. **

**Jalapeno Hands**

"Who's ready for some of Jack Dalton's famous chili?"

"It's only famous for what it does to your gastric intestines," Mac grimaced, knowing his partner's particular brand quite well with having spent so much time trapped in small spaces with him on missions.

"Hey man, that's how you know it's good." Jack grinned, knowing he could pass gas with the best of them.

The small group hungrily proceeded to dish out food including Jack's chili. Taking loaded plates to the den they started arguing over which movie to watch for their post-mission wind-down

"Damn Jack that's hot!" Bozer cried out.

"If you can't stand the heat, stay out of the kitchen," Jack laughed.

They spent the evening watching movies and critiquing the action scenes. Except when they watched any Bruce Willis movies because according to Jack he could do no wrong. They laughed and teased each other refusing to let anyone think about anything outside that room at that moment in time.

Jack dozed off on the couch a little too buzzed from his beer to drive. The others decided to call it quits when his snoring got to loud to hear the dialogue.

"He fell asleep early like an old man," Riley smirked, she couldn't wait to tease him about it later. She headed back to her place as the boys headed to their own rooms. Mac stopped long enough to throw a blanket over his partner. Then he went to bed.

Hours later he woke to a sound. Hyper aware and unable to sleep he went to investigate. He crept out of his room and into the main area of the house. He noticed the couch was empty with the blanket thrown to the floor. The light on in the kitchen set him at ease. Jack was probably just getting a midnight snack. He decided to grab a quick drink of water so he could teasingly make sure Jack wasn't destroying his kitchen in his quest for late-night sustenance. He was shocked to be greeted by the sight of a torn-apart kitchen. The milk carton sat next to the vegetable oil with half-full bowls strewn around the counter. A random bottle of lotion was next to the first aid kit. That gave him pause as felt a jolt of panic. Had Jack hurt himself cooking. Did he burn himself? Did a knife slip? Was he bleeding out on Mac's kitchen floor? He never heard a cry of pain. Did Jack call out for help?

He heard a sound behind the counter and rushed over. He found his friend sitting on the floor back leaned against the base of the counter. His elbows were placed on his knees as he held his hands aloft and erect. Clearly from the odd position they were in, something was wrong with them but Mac couldn't see any blood or burns. They looked fine. Jack had his head hung low so Mac couldn't tell if his eyes were open or not. He crouched next to him.

"Jack," Mac called, trying to keep his voice from shaking as reached out to his friend.

Jack flinched out of a restless doze clearly not aware of Mac's presence. He gave his friend a hurt look as he hissed in pain, "Damn Mac, don't do that."

"What's wrong?" Mac questioned getting more worried by the minute by Jack's odd behavior.

"It's nothing I'm fine," Jack seemed to mentally pull himself together before his eyes. But he stayed on the ground and he still held his hands stiff. Mac needed to figure out what was wrong with his partner.

"No!" Jack cried cursing out as he roughly jerked his hands away before his friend's hands could make contact with his.

"Jack?" Mac looked like a kicked puppy.

"It's fine. I just don't want your skin to start burning too," Jack sighed as he pulled himself up and onto a barstool.

"You burnt your hands?" Mac's tired mind was trying to connect the dots.

Jack looked away as his face heated up before he mumbled one word, "Peppers."

Everything clicked into place in Mac's giant brain except one thing. So he asked Jack, "Why didn't you use glove?"

"I figured I had enough calluses to keep anything from getting in. Besides I've never had a problem with peppers before."

"Have you tried anything yet?" Mac pointed to the cluttered counter.

"I've tried milk, rubbing alcohol, cooking oil, hell I even found some of Riley's flowery smelling lotion. Nothing's helped," Jack groaned flexing his pain-filled fingers.

"You're hands are burning because when you cut the peppers it released capsaicin into your skin. It's just lucky you didn't touch your eyes."

"I'm not that stupid," Jack pouted, "I've cut peppers before. These were supposed to just be anaheims."

"While anaheims are significantly more mild than jalapenos; they are quite unique in one way. Their heat varies depending on where they are grown."

"So I was right, those bastards did come from hell."

"Well, the good thing is that peppers don't damage skin like heat does or even chemical burns do. All it did was trigger the pain receptors in your hands."

"So all the pain, none of the damage," Jack summed up, "Is there anything else we can try? Or should I just go drown my pain in alcohol?"

Mac stood for a second thinking as he studied his friend's hands "We can try hot soapy water. It should open up your pores," He hesitated as he trailed off.

"I hear a but in there."

"I'm not going to lie it's going to burn like hell."

"It already does," Jack said with a grimace.

Mac hurried to gather up supplies to help his friend. He turned on the tap to the hottest setting and added some soap until it started to suds up bubbles. Grabbing a softer scrub brush he set up at the counter in front of the hurting older man.

"This is humiliating, Jack Dalton is taken out by a vegetable," Jack sighed as he placed his hands in the heated water.

"They're actually classified as fruit."


End file.
